The Wedding Party Collection. Кейт Хьюит

She didn’t want him to ask her again why she’d agreed. She didn’t want to have to answer.

      ‘Does the monarchy matter that much to you?’

      ‘Of course it does. It’s everything to me.’

      Everything. That was rather all-encompassing; it didn’t leave room for much else. ‘I suppose you’ve been preparing to be king since you were born.’

      Leo didn’t answer for a moment and Alyse felt the tension in his suddenly stilled hands, his long, lean fingers wrapped around the neck of the champagne bottle. Then he began to pour, the bubbles fizzing and popping against the sides of the flute. ‘More or less.’

      Alyse surveyed him, felt instinctively he wasn’t saying something, something important. Perhaps he did have secrets...just as she did.

      ‘Another toast?’ she asked as Leo handed her a glass.

      ‘We’ve had quite a few toasts recently.’

      ‘And quite a lot of champagne.’

      ‘People can be amazingly unoriginal about what they think is romantic,’ he said dryly. He eyed her thoughtfully over the rim of his glass. ‘How about a toast to friendship?’

      Alyse’s heart lurched. ‘You’re coming around, then?’ she said lightly, and he inclined his head in acknowledgement.

      ‘A bit.’

      ‘To friendship, then,’ she answered, and they both drank, their eyes meeting over the rims of their glasses. Alyse felt her insides tighten and then turn over at the look of heat in Leo’s navy eyes. They simmered with it, that warmth seeming to reach out and steal right through her. For such a coldly practical man, his eyes burned. She burned.

      ‘So,’ she offered shakily. ‘What is there to eat besides strawberries?’

      ‘Oh, lots of things,’ he said lightly, glancing away from her to fill a plate with various delectable offerings. ‘You won’t go hungry.’

      ‘No,’ Alyse murmured. But she was going hungry...hungry in an entirely different, and carnal, way. She knew he wanted her, had thrilled to the taste and feel of his desire when he’d kissed her, when he’d pulled her close to that hard, hard body. Yet she still didn’t quite have the confidence to act on it now, to thrust away the plate he’d given her and reach for something far more delicious: him.

      ‘Try some,’ Leo offered, and she saw the heat flare in his eyes, wondered if he knew the nature of her thoughts.

      Wordlessly Alyse put something in her mouth; she didn’t even look to see what it was. The burst of sweet flavour on her tongue surprised her and she realised she’d bitten into a plantain fried in orange juice.

      ‘Good?’ Leo asked, and now she heard the desire in his voice as well as saw it in his eyes; it poured over her like chocolate, rich and sweet. She’d never heard him sound like this before, never felt so much in herself—or from him.

      Somehow she managed to eat most of what was on her plate, the rich flavours bursting on her tongue. Every heavy-lidded look and small, knowing smile from Leo made her more aware of everything: the taste of the food; the feel of the sun on her salt-slicked skin; the heat and desire coursing through her body like warmed honey.

      Finally there were only the strawberries left, and the champagne.

      ‘And this is the only way to eat these,’ Leo said, dipping a strawberry in his flute of champagne and then raising it to Alyse’s parted lips.

      Her heart rate skittered and her breathing hitched as she opened her mouth and took a bite of the champagne-sodden fruit. The taste on her tongue was both tart and sweet, but far headier than any champagne she could drink was the look of unabashed hunger in Leo’s eyes—and the answering surge she felt in herself.

      Strawberry juice dribbled down her chin and Leo’s expression flared hotter as he caught it with the tip of his thumb then licked the juice from his own hand.

      Alyse let out an audible shudder. Then, filled with a new daring fuelled by this heady desire, she reached for a strawberry and dunked it into her own glass of champagne. Leo’s narrowed gaze followed her movements and after a heartbeat’s hesitation he opened his mouth.

      Her fingers near to trembling, Alyse put the strawberry to his lips. Juice ran over her fingers as he bit down, his gaze hot and hard on hers. She shuddered again, her whole body singing with awareness and need. Then Leo turned his head so his lips brushed her fingers and with his tongue he caught a drip of juice from the sensitive skin of her wrist.

      Alyse let out a shocked gasp at the exquisite sensation. ‘Leo...’

      And then he was pushing aside the remnants of their picnic, champagne spilling and strawberries scattering, and was reaching for her, finally, finally reaching for her.

      His hands came hard onto her shoulders and then his mouth was hard on hers, tasting both tart and sweet from the champagne and the fruit.

      His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting, searching, and then finding. Pleasure burst inside her like fireworks, like sparks of the sun, heating her all over. Alyse brought her hands up to his shoulders, her palms smoothing and then clutching the hot, bared skin.

      Leo’s mouth moved from her lips to her jaw and then her neck, his hand cupping her breast with only the thin, damp fabric of her bikini top between the heat of his palm and her sensitive skin.

      Alyse moaned aloud, the sound escaping from her, impossible to contain, and Leo drew back.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, smoothing her hair away from her face. ‘I’m rushing like a randy schoolboy and you deserve better than that.’

      She blinked, still dazed by the sensations coursing through her. Leo smiled, no more than a quirk of his mouth. ‘I don’t want your first time to be some hasty grope on the deck of a boat. I do have that much sensitivity, Alyse.’

      Alyse blinked again, his words trickling through her, leaving ice in their wake. Her first time. Hers—not theirs.

      Leo, she realised, thought she was a virgin.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      LEO SAW THE emotions flash across Alyse’s face like changes in the weather, sunshine and shadows. Even more so he felt the change in her, the tensing, the slight withdrawal even though she hadn’t actually moved.

      ‘What is it?’ he asked quietly. ‘What’s wrong?’

      She gave a little shake of her head. ‘Nothing.’

      He didn’t believe that for a moment. Gently but firmly he took her chin in his hand, forced her to look at him. ‘It’s not nothing.’

      Her clear grey eyes met his for a moment before she let her gaze slide away. ‘Nothing to talk about now,’ she said, with a not-quite-there smile.

      If she was trying to sound light, she’d failed. Leo let go of her chin and sat back braced on his hands to survey her thoughtfully. She still wasn’t looking at him and a tendril of hair, curly from the sea air, fell against the soft paleness of her cheek.

      ‘Are you nervous about what will happen between us?’

      She looked at him then, a small spark of humour lighting her eyes. ‘You sound like something out of a melodrama, Leo. You’re usually more blunt than that.’

      He felt his mouth curving in an answering smile. ‘I’m happy to be blunt. I want you, Alyse.’ He gazed at her frankly, letting the desire that still coursed unsated through his body reveal itself in his face. ‘I want you very badly. I want to touch you, to kiss you, to be inside you. And I don’t want to wait very long.’

      He saw an answering flare of heat in her eyes, turning them to molten silver, but her lips twisted and trembled and she looked